


i, too, have known autumn too long

by 3milesup



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Gambling, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Smut, Survivor Guilt, Swearing, but it won't be all fun and games i'm sorry, other stuff later on :p, past relationship mentioned, poor communication skills, some internalized homophobia if you squint, yeah i know it has luz in it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3milesup/pseuds/3milesup
Summary: One hot evening of 1949, Luz pays an unexpected visit to Reading, PA.What follows looks like a bunch of brilliant ideas at first glance. The thing is, they are not the same boys that went to war five years ago, and all that has stayed intact are their differences and how little they actually know about each other.
Relationships: George Luz/Joseph Toye
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Important note: this is based solely on the HBO characters and by no means intended to disrespect the memory of the real life veterans.
> 
> Title from _a wind has blown the rain away and blown_ by e.e. cummings (and thanks, ThrillingDetectiveTales - you know (; )

_July '49_

“Hi sugar, are you rationed?”

There had to be one single man in this whole blessed country who would walk up to _Joe Toye_ with the cheesiest of pick-up lines, having the audacity to call him _sugar_ , and do so in accented voice of Cary Grant.

Unless, of course, it was Cary Grant himself, but Toye didn’t give that option much thought. He preferred his version.

“Don’t mistake sugar with sulfa powder, Luz, ain’t gonna be too sweet,” he snorted, turning around to meet two round eyes lit up with radiant smile. “Whatcha doin’ down here?”

“I’d be gettin’ a beer, if anyone gave a shit about me here…”

Toye whistled at the barkeeper who waved him off without as much as a glance, cleaning some glasses.

“Told you somethin’, Joe, I ain’t servin’ you none on tick till you…”

“Not for me, fathead,” Toye butted in, frantic. The man looked around and gave a questioning nod.

“Just a pint,” Luz flashed a smile. “Actually, make it two.” He was sat across the table, idly rocking back on his chair, and Toye caught himself staring. Luz brazenly returned the look, and he was quite sure that sweat trickling down his spine had nothing to do with the summer swelter. The barman tossed the wet cloth and shuffled to the tap, mumbling something about 'can pay for the whole week if ya want, kid.' Toye figured he’d better said something really quickly.

“Beer gotta suck real bad up there.”

“Yeah, no, there’s another thing. There’s this guy I knew, I tried to write but he never replied…”

“I see… Found him yet? I can ask around, but maybe he never made it…” Something in Luz’s face shut him up. _Oh._ “You don’t know nobody else from down here, do ya?”

The chair landed on all four legs with a thud, Luz leaned on sticky table.

“Why, Joe?” There was no reproach, no resentment, just a touch sad interest. Toye shrugged because it felt all too complicated to explain.

"I ain't no good with letters."

Luz nodded slowly. Now, Toye would have lied if he denied he had thought of him _a lot_. While he was dragging his ass from one hospital to another, feeling like a frigging failure, as he did all his life, while he was wandering around, stranger in his hometown, looking for any odd job to take up, while he was lying wide awake, counting flecks of light on cracked ceiling, afraid to fall asleep… When remembering Luz was that one decisive good thing about staying alive.

He also had lots of time to ponder what they were and what they could have amounted to, hadn't he left too soon.

Scratch that.

Hadn't he chickened out so many times before.

After he’d pulled through the worst days, infection and all, and one nurse noted, blushing slightly, that his sweetheart had an interesting name (turned out, he was apparently crying for _Georgie_ in fever), she left him mortified. Bill, that bastard, just choked with laughter, poor cot squeaking underneath him, and when she left, he drawled, with that knowing half-smirk of his: _“Georgie, huh?”_ Toye shot him a death glare, to which he only laughed some more and never mentioned it again, until they were to be separated into different recovery hospitals. _“Yo, and Joe,”_ he called after him, _“write him, fella’s gonna be glad._ ” Toye sat there dumbfounded, contemplating his words for a while. Glad for what? That he was rotting in bed while them guys were fighting a war?

He never sent a single line.

He didn't even know if Luz made it home and wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He had immortalized him in a second of laughter, head thrown back, crinkled eyes, fringe sticking out in all directions, and refused to have it any other way.

And now here he was, flesh and blood, hair as messy as Toye remembered it, wrinkles etched by the corners of eyes permanently, the same mischievous energy almost palpably sizzling under his composure. Toye realized it was the first time they were seeing each other in civvies. The thought made him uncomfortable. In his worn-down denim overalls and wife beater that was more sun-bleached than washed, he didn’t feel as though he looked too presentable. Good thing was, Luz kept staring at his pint instead of him, cigarette dangling from his lips as it always used to. None of them seemed keen on voicing the other question, but it was there, hanging in the hot, smoke-heavy air: why the hell would he ask around for Toye’s new address, travel all the way to Reading, search for him around the town, only to ask why Toye never got back to him, accept first half-baked explanation, and then sit here without a word, head having receded on untouched beer? And Toye suspected he knew the answer, but he was too damn scared of it.

“Luz,” he cleared his throat. “Drink it, while it ain’t a complete piss.”

“What are you doing these days?” Luz asked and gulped down a mouthful of beer. Judging by his face, it was a piss already.

“Nothin’ much.” It came out as barely a mutter and Toye saw a twitch in his friend’s eyebrow, but Luz didn’t comment on it, taking another sip instead. “How about you?”

“What would much be after fighting a world war?” he winced. It comforted Toye in a selfish way, and in a way disturbed him even more. He’d hoped at least guys like Luz, who came home in one piece, would come through well. “I’m a handyman.”

“That _is_ much.” He tilted his head, propped up on a fist. “This world needs fixin’ up.”

Luz smiled, still somewhat distant. _Not only world._

“Doesn’t really love company, does he?” he looked pointedly at the barman. Toye shrugged.

“Closes in half an hour, all itchy to go home.”

“Hey, I get that. How about we get out of the poor guy's hair? I could think of better places to be, too…"

Toye shrugged again, still unsure what to make out of those suggestive glances. Immediate familiar, comfortable warmth he had always felt around Luz turned into heat crawling up his neck, as he reached for the crutches, and he hung his head the lowest possible. As if it wasn’t bad enough, Luz held the goddamned door for him, and Toye suddenly wanted to punch that smile off his kisser. He clenched his teeth, taking a few steady breaths.

“Where you stayin’?” he asked to take his mind off the shameful impulse.

“Nowhere.”

Toye stopped in his tracks. That simple word implied way too much. That Luz went all in on finding him, with a clear idea of how to spend the night when he did, and if he didn’t, he would probably just be chain smoking and getting sauced in one of the bars while waiting for the very next train back to Providence.

He felt short of breath.

It would also mean taking Luz to his ramshackle place.

Even shorter of breath, and less pleasantly so.

“Ease up, trooper, I can sleep here on a bench if it’s that much of a trouble,” Luz laughed, a bit strained, Toye shook his head and slowly dying inside, led the way down the street.

Luz was leaning against the wall, not moving a finger, as he fumbled for the keys and wrestled with the door, and he felt the bile rising again, because _the fuck is he standing there like a tool for?!_ Door hit him in the shoulder, as if to knock some sense into him: never happy with anything, huh?

“Second floor, door six,” he tossed the keys to Luz, who caught them but matched Toye’s pace up the stairs, chattering about this lady who was his ground floor neighbor, they bonded over their Massachusetts origins, she would give Luz fresh pastry every other day, and when she wasn’t baking, she was sat by the opened window knitting or crocheting and talking to the passersby. Toye almost tripped over laughing at the old tremulous voice with wonderful Boston accent. His own laughter sounded strange to him, but it felt like some hideous tangled knot in his chest had just loosened.

_Where the hell have you been till now?_

While opening the door, Luz read the name scribbled on shabby name plate – J. D. Jackson – and wondered whether Toye was shacking up with someone and he got it royally wrong.

“You know what I’m here for, right?” he hesitated on the threshold. Toye nudged him in.

Luz briefly glanced around the messy one room apartment, uttered 'nice digs' while dropping his backpack on the floor, in a tone Toye failed to decipher. He shrugged.

“Rented it a few weeks ago.”

Not that it answered any question or justified the poor condition of his lodging. He pondered what to do next. Offer something to drink, have _that_ talk, or just be Joe Toye and pull him in for a smooch?

In Pittston, he had been dating this one broad from down the street for a while, she was boasting about her war hero everywhere but never too keen on having sex with him. And while the feeling was mutual, and he could honestly understand her, it still hurt, deep down. In attempt to save what little was left of his dignity, he preferred to pay for it. At least them whores wouldn’t pretend they cared. They did their job, some were fun to be around, some were bored; once, in Philly, he spent all night just sharing cigarettes and occasionally a few words, and then in the morning they had a fight over money, Toye wanted to leave “a tip”, she refused to take anything at all…

However, all this goes to say Joe Toye hadn’t learnt much about romancing, let alone romancing a buddy. So, when Luz pinned him to the wall and brushed their mouths together, gently parting Toye's lips with his own, he got a bit lost. He buried his face into Luz’s neck and drew a deep breath.

He heard a soft, chuckled 'Joey' right next to his ear.

“Damn, the last to call me that was my mother when I was fifteen…” He tightened the squeeze; Luz gasped but endured, caressed the cropped hair and whispered some mess of _I missed you, I want you, I need you_ between wet kisses that tasted of beer and cigarettes and felt oddly familiar from the first touch. Light stubble burning the skin, tongue mapping the crooked row of teeth, dipping behind it, lips sliding together in sensual languor spiced by smacking sounds, noisy gulps and enamel clacking together, so far from those silver screen smooches Luz had seen indefinite number of, yet so perfect.

Luz pulled back with a slurp, swallowed hard, and Toye went dizzy for a moment. Intense, _hungry_ look of heavy-lidded eyes sent a jolt down his chest right to the crotch and he held that gaze, trying to breathe, while he groped for the zipper of Luz’s trousers. He sneaked his hand under the boxers and started a bit at the touch of hot, soft skin. Luz’s breath hitched ever so slightly, Toye tipped his head back by the hair and mouthed at his throat.

“No marks, yeah?” Luz brought out, panting, and he fought the urge to bite harder.

“Someone’s gonna make you a scene?”

Luz pressed him into the wall.

“Who d’you think I am?”

A normal man leading a normal life? He had no band, that much Toye noticed, but not all wear it. And they didn’t have to be married. Didn’t even have to be a woman, after all… The thought irritated him.

“Who d’you think I am?!” Luz repeated, giving him a small shake. Toye dropped his gaze to where his wrist was brushing the dark curls. He wasn’t sure what to do with that hand now.

“Oh c’mon, a sugar puss like you won’t be alone…” It didn’t drip with condescending sass as much as he intended.

“You are.”

He stifled a snort. _Nice try, baby._ But if he didn’t want to kill the mood completely, he could only play along.

“Me, I’m too swell for just anybody.”

“You don't say. Am I good enough?” Back to that scratchy velvet voice that Toye hadn’t heard before but definitely liked, and he tugged Luz closer again, getting a better grasp of him.

“We’ll see…”

Little did he know Luz wanted nothing more than at least a hickey to bring back this night for days to come, but he didn’t want to make up some baby doll for jokes over a beer with friends. Was it anyone else, he wouldn’t have cared, but he couldn’t find it in him to lie about Joe.

He was getting painfully hard under tentative touches that, was he able to think, would have made him ask if it was Toye’s first time with a man, leading to a string of related questions, but his brain was short-circuiting. He just wanted those hands all over him, _inside him_ … He bit at Toye’s lip before breaking the kiss for mere seconds to breathe out:

“Move this someplace less vertical, shall we?”

Toye wanted to lift him up and carry him to bed and… the mood did get killed, evetually. First by realizing he wouldn’t carry Luz anywhere, ever, and second, by no means he could take him to bed, as he didn’t recall a single time he’d changed the sheets.

 _What are we even playing at, here?_ he thought, bitter, while giving a non-committal nod. Luz must have sensed that shift in the atmosphere as he pulled back again, a little confused, and Toye could _hear_ the cogs click into place. Luz picked up the crutches that had been tossed into oblivion for a while, handed them over, pressing another long peck to his mouth, and whispered 'off you go' with a light slap on his bottom.

Glad his embarrassed blush could be disguised for arousal at this point, Toye made it over to the sofa that was tattered on the edges and hard where the dents were, but it still wasn’t sweaty bedsheets. He plopped down on squeaky padding, felt the springs sag beneath his ass and he hated his whole life with new vigor. Luz unceremoniously straddled him, undid the straps on dungarees and scraped his fingertips down the ripped chest. Encouraged by breathless, shuddery response, he pulled the hem of greyish tank top up; when Toye caught his wrist, he let go, pressed up against him and ran his hands over the fabric, up the sides, down the spine. Suddenly, he stilled, cupped Toye’s chin and searched his face for reassurance, concern shining through the haze of lust.

 _Damn,_ Toye thought, _how does he catch up with my head like this?_

“Want me to get off of you?” Luz asked, but with that hopeful glint in his eyes and Toye _had to_ jump at it.

“Want you to get off _on_ me.”

Luz grinned and ducked to nip at his ear.

“The fuck,” he gasped at the chills down his spine. Luz huffed out a quiet laughter and sucked at the earlobe, grinding against him. Toye squeezed his buttocks, pressing him closer, and grazed his teeth over the clothed shoulder.

“Better if I take it off, whatcha say?” Luz asked, voice wavering.

“Ain’t much fair if I don’t…”

“See if I care.” He opened upper two buttons, pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it on armrest. Placing kisses and gentle bites along his clavicles, Toye took on stroking him again. Luz was outright moaning now, and as much as Toye loved the sound, he hissed a horrified _"Luz, shaddup"_ in a lucid moment.

“Oh c’mon, make them neighbors a bit jealous.”

“Of messin’ around with a fella? Don’t think so…”

“I can pull off a broad if you want,” not too far gone to stop being Luz yet, he smirked and rolled his hips with a high-pitched whine. Toye spurted laughter.

“Please, _no_.”

“Well then… there are many ways to shut me up.” Tongue between his teeth, he reached under the front of overalls fallen into Toye’s lap to brush his knuckles against the strained crotch of ragged denim and damn, _yes_ , Toye wanted that smart mouth on him, wanted that swift tongue to toy with something else than just Luz’s lip… _Right after I’m finished with ya_ , he said inwardly, as he didn’t trust his voice too much, and meanwhile, not knowing himself where that came from, slipped two fingers into Luz’s mouth. If taken aback for a moment, Luz came round before Toye would start regretting it; he sucked and swirled his tongue around them, putting on a more obscene show than he would ever have imagined to be capable of, and Toye couldn't wait to sink into that wet, silken heat, he almost _felt_ the shivery sensation of lips sliding along his length, enclosing the tip… A blowjob from Luz. He wanted to pinch himself. _Luz. Georgie…_ Half-naked and rock-hard in his lap. He wrapped the spit-slick fingers around him and picked up the pace. Luz’s breath was catching between all the _ah God_ and _Joe, please_ and _fuck, yes,_ he was clutching onto the backrest and Toye, mouthing at his chest, didn’t try to keep him quiet anymore. There was a distinct sound of upholstery being torn before Luz collapsed against him, pressed his face into the faded fabric and panted, choking back small whimpers.

“Gotcha,” Toye murmured and held him tight, rubbing his back. Luz went boneless in his arms, so quiet that after a while Toye gently patted his hip. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mhm.” He rubbed his face and looked up, cross eyed. “I know, Joey, I'm on it,” he caressed his groin and took a deep breath, stifling a yawn.

“No! I just…”

“’Twas a helluva day,” he mumbled, apologetic. Toye brushed his hair off sweaty forehead.

“Wanna sleep?”

“Wanna get you off.”

“Screw it.”

Luz shook his head and slid to his knees by the couch.

“Now, forget this,” Toye pulled him back up. “I mean this, Luz. Get over here, you ain’t gon-” Silenced by a mouth pressed firmly on his, he wrapped an arm around Luz’s waist and helped him tug the overalls lower with his free hand.

Nothing like what he had originally in mind, it was all slow caresses, languid kisses, locked gazes and ache in chest; he squeezed his eyes for those few still seconds of caught breath that were only his, ripples of unknown pure pleasure washing away all the insecurities and doubts, leaving but liquid calm seeping into the muscles, and opened them to catch Luz grinning to himself, wiping his hand with the striped gray shirt that had been degraded to a rag for the night ( _"Got a spare one, nevermind..." "Gonna have it washed here next time you swing by."_ ). 

“Three hundred miles just for this, huh?” he asked to break the silence before it would get too dense, and lied down on the back. Luz crawled over to settle on top of him.

“Well worth it.” He kissed the chiseled jaw.

There was so much more Toye would have wanted to say, like that Luz had just ruined him for good, because he had no idea how to go on without after this, or that he wanted to make something out of his life and didn’t know how, or simply what a sight Luz was, all worked up like that… But he couldn’t find the words, and he realized Luz had drifted off, rocked by steady rises of his chest.

He squinted through the dark at the new damage to his sofa: a scrap hung from the backrest, stuffing peeking out. At least something to remind him of warm skin under his palms, pliant body shaking with aftershocks, the first time since war that he felt proud of himself, to remind him of Luz’s hand and the kisses…

Hell, they barely did anything, and he came out of his mind. He still could feel the tremor in his insides, tight with all the feelings he couldn’t quite name, but if he could, they would most likely be bliss, new tenderness and burning, painful desire, fear of the unknown and, as the night neared morning, the old dull pain crept in and nostalgia over something that is over before it would begin prevailed, because he’s no match to Luz – that could’ve been, _perhaps_ , the Joe Toye he once used to be. Not the crippled knucklehead that hardly knows how to handle him in bed, let alone out of it… _Brass-knucklehead_ , he thought distracted. Damn, he missed it. The worst thing about being unsteady on his feet, as he very soon found out, was that he couldn’t pick up fights. Well, as a matter of fact, he _could_ , and he had tried. It was too fucking embarrassing.

Just what frustration it had to be to make a guy like Luz resort to him?! _Looks like he really is alone…_

He ran his hand over the shock of hair tucked underneath his chin, a clumsy caress that only left him feeling even more useless, and fought the urge to crush Luz between his arms again _and never let him go_.

It was good while it lasted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, faced Luz and Toye's style. Chaos ensues.

He woke up surprised twice: by the fact that he had _slept_ , and by feeling oddly easy. Apparently, Luz had left the sleeping spot on his chest and was now… taking a shower? The sounds were too loud to be coming from the neighboring flat, and he thought he recognized _Dream A Little Dream of Me_ over the splashing. He tried to remember if Luz used to sing in the showers back in the army, he most likely did, and very annoyingly so, but Toye had become so good at ignoring his naked presence that he didn’t even realize.

_Stupid idiot._

What wouldn’t he give now for going back, to turn up next to Luz instead of tucking himself into the furthest corner, banter back and forth and then bluntly ask Luz to be of some use for once and soap up his back, which he would decline with some witty remark, both aware it could have only led to one compromising end. But at least, Toye would have gotten that challenging playful smile in return, gone between two blinks but leaving a tickle of want for the rest of the day…

The picture didn’t do much to help with his morning tent (third surprise, actually, which made him pray for that cursed sofa to swallow him whole). Just as he was deciding whether to get done with it or just breathe through it, the water stopped running. He stiffened, hand sneaking back from halfway, and – pathetic as it was – he closed his eyes again. However it might hurt, he wanted to know. And give Luz an out without making it awkward. Bathroom door creaked; Toye imagined wet footprints across the dusty rag, slowly fading away. He swallowed the lump and tried to keep his breathing easy as he listened to the rustle of clothes. Rewind of the last night: shirt getting tucked into the trousers, purr of the zipper, a buckle clacked and Toye felt as though that belt tightened around his throat. He wasn’t sure what scared him more: that Luz would go, or what was to follow if he stayed.

Silence seemed to stretch for minutes, maybe it _was_ minutes, and he almost didn’t care anymore, he just wanted it to be over and take a proper lungful of air.

Trail of lingering kisses along his neck and jaw came unexpected.

“Joey,” Luz patted his chest, let his hand rest there, fingertips moving in ever so light caress, and Toye cracked an eye open.

“Huh?”

“Wake up and say goodbye, I gotta go.”

“Already.” He pushed himself up and remembered to rub his face to make the awakening somewhat credible. Luz fixated him, as if looking for something, Toye couldn’t tell what but wished he found it. He wished Luz found _anything_ in him.

“It’s half past eleven.”

_Yeah, well, that is early morning, in case you didn’t know…_

“Missed the first train,” he chuckled, fastening the watch around his wrist, movements a bit jerky. Toye wanted to brush back the wet fringe obscuring the view and look him in the eyes, because he didn’t like it one bit. Luz had no business being crestfallen like that, he did nothing wrong. “Man, you knocked me out…”

“My pleasure, anytime.”

He sniffed, as he would always do when uneasy, gave a curt nod, and Toye decided it was about as good a time to play his hand as any. It’s not like he had anything to lose.

“Maybe… I could come visit you someday, too?”

“It better not be another four years.”

“Fuck, I could go with you right away.”

“Now?”

“I mean…” He scratched his nape.

“No. Come with me.”

“Really?”

“You said it.”

“I…”

“Don’t play me, Toye.”

“Nah, I wanna play _with_ you…”

“Wait a bit,” Luz said reluctantly, and finally broke into a genuine smile. “Listen up: that’s not half bad as idea, guess we both could use some company. And damn, last night…”

There it was again: that cozy warmth Joe hadn’t felt in years, the feeling of a job well done, and he cocked his head.

“Not half bad, neither.”

Luz glanced around before pointing his eyes straight on him, as to say _what’s in here for you, other than this filth?_

“So? You coming?”

“Ask me that when I’m fuckin’ you into the bed…”

He blinked a few times, corners of his mouth twitching, before he snickered in disbelief.

“I’m starting to like this. Alright… need a hand?”

“As you can tell…” Toye looked down. Luz, the cheeky bastard that he was, bit his lip to stop grinning, but still beamed.

“Go take a cold shower. Jesus Christ… Just trying to say, I could pack something while you get gussied up, so that we don’t miss the next train as well, I gotta go to work tomorrow…”

“There’s the duffel bag somewhere,” Toye pointed to a wardrobe, mentally kicking up one half of door sitting wrong on the hinges, and his newly found old boldness continued to surprise him: “Just take whatever you’d like on me.”

“Trust my taste?”

“Once you fancy me, I guess we’re safe.”

It was so easy. So damn easy it was unsettling, but he didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted Luz, all the laughs and teasing, sex, _life_ that he felt coursing through his veins.

He consumed half of the soap bar in the shower, put on considerably more cologne than necessary, and turned the whole bathroom upside down till he found a forsaken tin of pomade. He even donned his prosthetic leg, to set out on the new journey somewhat presentable.

The dove eyes that met him were worth the effort, and so was the kiss, chaste and fresh and hell, he could really get used to this.

“Hey… how’d you even find me?”

It took Luz some three or four heartbeats of hesitation he bridged by another peck.

“Read my coffee grounds, followed the north star, flipped the coin at crossroads, you know how it goes.” He figured that it wouldn’t really help, if he said how he couldn’t get through to any Joseph J. Toye living in Pittston, so he asked the operator for any Toye in the whole Pennsylvania that owes their company money, she did some thorough checking and got back to him with the information about a man from Knox and this one whose number was recently disconnected in West Reading. ‘ _Disconnected’ sounds very much like Toye_ , he thought back then, not really thinking about the telephones, and then came to the Reading downtown to find Joe was, indeed, disconnected from life.

He also decided to skip the part where he was cruising the pubs, searching for Joe Toye and getting all kinds of looks in return, ranging from pity through disdain to disgust.

Toye was done with packing up and had just tossed his keys on the table.

“We seriously doing this?” Luz laughed. It felt like a movie scene and was pretty much enjoying that.

“You tell me.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then…” Toye threw the army bag over his shoulder, turning a deaf ear on Luz’s offer to carry it for him, and shut the door, beyond indifferent to all he was leaving there.

“What’ve you taken?” Luz poked at the bag once they were seated on the train.

“Stuff.”

“No shit.” He boldly opened it and rummaged through Toye’s belongings, and Joe, eyeing him with his leg stretched onto the opposite seat, wanted to land him a blow. Or just blow him. Not that he knew how but was quite keen on finding out.

“Hands off, Luz,” he nudged him with his foot. “Or better, find me a smoke there.”

Luz groaned but searched for the pack, and Toye, rubbing his thigh with the side of shoe, felt him lean into the touch. He lifted a corner of his mouth in a suggestive smile, Luz flipped him the _Chesterfields_ and patted his shin.

“Here, calm the hell down,” he laughed. “You’re an animal, Toye…”

“You asked for it,” Joe shrugged, lighting up his cigarette.

He did, however, calm down to the point of dozing off. Luz observed him for a while, amused by how outraged Toye would be if he knew, and moved by how peaceful and vulnerable he looked when asleep. He’d turned even finer over the years, his features lost that youngish gawkiness and filled up to their potential, and Luz was spellbound. He returned to exploring the bag, partly to distract himself, but he honestly was curious as for what Joe Toye would have deemed worth bringing along.

Apart from the few pieces of clothing, there was his uniform and a shoe box full of trifles Luz wished to know the stories behind, a photo of a tall woman looking down at little boy hugged to her leg, caressing his hair, dog tags and brass knuckles and a stack of envelopes. He checked on Toye, sleeping soundly with his head against the window, caught himself once again checking longer than necessary, and then took on turning the envelopes in his hands one by one, in search for his own writing.

He found all of his letters stuffed together, opened one at random and skimmed over a few jerky lines. Speirs’ name caught his eye. Foy. _Not now._ He went all mushy after that night in church in Rachamps and didn’t want to revisit that. There had to be a smug part about “the 1st battalion shitheads” taking a nice hike from there, too. He smiled faintly at the memory, fishing out another piece of paper.

_21 June 1945_

_Hey Joe,_

_lots of news from here, I couldn’t write you earlier because the silly old me fell off a motorcycle and messed up my arm. Would you believe that? “Peanut” should see this, soldiers do get injured, too…_

_Some drunk replacement shot Chuck Grant in the head, but he will pull through. Capt. Speirs found a Kraut surgeon in the middle of the night, they say he broke in through the front door and pulled him out of his bed at gunpoint._

Then the ill-fated lottery for Shifty, his opinion on the points system… Thinking of it now, the censorship had to be rather relaxed by that time. Caught up in his reminiscing, he took another letter and didn’t even realize what he was reading at first. Holding his breath, he stared at unfamiliar scribbles forming words he had longed to hear for years.

_15 February 1945_

_Luz,_

_just wanna let you know I made it. My leg no. Fuck it, one can do, I still kick ass._

_Miss your jokes._

_It’s a hell here. Got Guarno nex to me tho, not sure if that good or even worse._

_One nurse is a real bitch. Some are nice._

_We eat crap like in Bastone just warmer._

_I wanna be back on the line with youse. Lemme now if your okay._

_Toye_

Having it read at least fifteen times over, Luz went, a bit shaky, through the rest of the stack. There was his letter from Stürzelberg, a postcard from Berchtesgaden and then, fast forward through three months of Joe Toye’s struggle, a sheet dated _27 May 1945:_

_Hey George,_

_hope to see you soon too. I kinda really miss you. Come round to Pittston if you want. It’s a shithole tho, nothin much to see just mines and mines you know, where I worked before Tocoa. Not sure what I’m gonna do now. It scares the shit outa me, Luz. All of this. The life after. Got any plans yet? It sure gonna be a lot easier for you fellas in one piece. But still._

_Can’t believe I ain’t coming back from here._

_Bitchy nurse is still bitchy. Others are still nice. Food still crap but still better than Bastone._

_Old Bill got transfered, I get bored to dead now._

_Write if you want and sorry for this shitty letter but it ain’t much fun here. And I really can’t write. I’d like to be with you better._

_Joe_

Thanking heavens that Toye apparently had become a tight sleeper, he folded the correspondence away, closed the bag and made his way over to the dining car. He had to look desperate, knocking back a glass of scotch like that and all teary-eyed, asking for another one right away, but he couldn’t care less.

_Why haven’t you sent them, you stupid mick?! Do you realize where we could’ve been by now? How much trouble you could have spared us both…_

He didn’t know exactly what to think, when he got his last two letters returned to sender, so he went with the easiest option to cope: Toye just didn’t want to hear from him. It wouldn’t be all that strange, in the end. They had never gotten really _close_. Not as close as Toye was with Bill and Malark, not as close as Luz had grown to Lipton or Perconte. It was more of curiosity, amused annoyance and primal attraction they fought hard to resist – or deny.

But being close with someone isn’t everything. He’d kill Perco sooner or later, if they were to share more than jokes and occasional talks. He trusted the guy in battle, but he wasn’t sure he would have trusted him that much in peace. Lip, on the other hand, was too good if there is such thing. Too open, too caring, too much heart on his sleeve. Where’s fun in that? Luz wanted to dig all that up in Joe Toye.

Only much later he realized he could have been _a_ _nuisance_ to him, too. He didn’t mean to be a nuisance. He never meant to be _a clingy vine_ and _annoying_ and all that. He hoped Toye would remember him – if he cared to remember – as the frivolous tease he used to like.

Even though it hurt. He always believed Toye saw something more in him, and lived for the day he would get to show what he's worth…

He would still draft those letters in his head sometimes and picture Joe snickering at them, or feeling for Luz – because damn, they were imaginary, he could tell whatever he wanted there, even though he would have _never_ said it out loud, neither put it on the paper.

When he happened to talk to Guarnere, about a year ago, he lost it and asked how “good ol’ Toye” was doing. Long seconds of silence passed down the line before Bill admitted he had no idea. He sounded just as broken as Luz felt when the postman handed him his letter with a crossed out Pittston address, and Luz started to think that maybe it wasn’t about him, maybe it was much worse.

He checked the time, finished his drink and returned to their compartment. A passenger that wasn’t there before was seated by the door, and Toye was awake, staring out of the window, jaw firmly set and a cigarette behind his ear. He never was a heavy smoker – nowhere near Luz, anyways – so it was a bit alarming.

_Damn you, one cannot leave you alone for a minute?!_

“How’s it going?” Luz attempted a light tone and sat across from him, within the radius of palpable tension. Toye demonstratively flicked the empty lighter, still looking outside.

“Got a light?”

Luz was tempted to share that smoke as they used to do back in the days, when the provocative dampness of the filter was the closest they’d gotten to a kiss… But they were in a public place, the man kept side-eyeing them from his corner every once in a while, and Luz wished to know what the heck had happened there.

Getting off the train was somehow less graceful than getting on, and Toye ended up tumbling down and bruising his knee. He cursed at anyone who dared as much as to look at him, let alone stopping by and asking if he was alright, and he almost slapped away Luz’s offered hand.

His prosthesis moved awkwardly as he fell and was a pain to walk on now, and the goddamned duffel bag was killing him, but no way in hell he was going to ask for help.

So much for making horny decisions.

_Fuck this stupid idea._

“Well… here we are, make yourself at home.” Luz patted his back, ushering him in. “Bathroom’s that door over there, if you need - the _left_ one, don't go pissing on my supplies of groceries… And put your stuff down wherever you please, then we’ll find it some place.”

Toye dropped the bag in a corner and stood there lost for words, unsure what to do. The flat was bright and filled with a smell he couldn’t quite pinpoint but liked.

“Wanna eat?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Oh, c’mon, Joe! You’re not making it easier, y’know?”

“What?”

“Just… _this_ ,” Luz threw his arms out helplessly. “Okay? I’ve got zero idea what we’ve just done and what we’re gonna do now, but I really wanna figure it out, and if you keep acting like you’re on a job interview here… I go nuts, I swear. Just sit the fuck down, feet on the table, and tell me to at least make you a damn dinner once I’ve dragged you all the way to here…” _And stop looking like you can’t wait to get gone._

Toye blinked a few times, then went and ostentatiously sprawled himself on the sofa.

“Fine, where’s the damn dinner?”

“A toast or…”

“A toast.”

Modest but homey room was dominated by a cabinet fitting in a television, radio, turntable with a stack of records, some books, a plant, and it was all built perfectly to measure.

“Made them shelves yourself, Luz?” he called out.

“Also my whole bedroom and the shelves in the pantry,” came a laughter from the kitchen. “Gotta keep myself busy on the long winter evenings.”

Stupefied, Toye hesitated for a while, then told himself Luz would probably appreciate him loosening up and went to check out the bedroom.

A desk was situated under the window, chair half-disappearing beneath a pile of clothes, bed and closet standing by its end were taking up nearly half of the narrow space. He stepped closer to inspect framed photos above the bed. Luz, Perco, Christenson and Babe on a terrace in the mountains, holding up a bottle of wine each. Had to be the Eagle's Nest. He shifted his gaze before Frank half-sat on Luz's leg with his arm around the waist would irk him up. Next, the holy trinity, Malarkey with Skip and Penk. He felt the chill creeping down his neck, pooling at the pit of his stomach, and tried to focus on the frame, wondering if it was handmade as well. From another one, his own mug was staring up at him over his shoulder, suffering eyebrows raised in his usual "what is it this time?!" question. He found it funny, if not a little odd, that anyone would choose _that_ to put on the wall. Maybe it was the only picture of him Luz had. Still, to think he had been sleeping there with Toye's photo right above his head… It probably should have felt nice, but all he felt was some kind of guilt. Before he had a chance to take a better look at a rather large group shot, Luz called for him, with that edgy undertone in his chuckle that Toye had gotten good at detecting in the past twenty-four hours:

“Joe? Gone already?!”

“Just makin’ myself at home.” He emerged from the bedroom. There was a plate with two crunchy looking toasts set for him on the dining table; Luz was sitting across from it, munching away, a string of melted cheese stuck to his chin, and Toye felt a sudden strong urge to kiss him. _So, you were thinkin' of me, too, all this time?_

“Oh shit, that room’s a mess,” Luz groaned. “But yeah, that reminds me… gotta move my stuff.” He got up, taking one more abundant bite, and put the toast down.

“Where to?”

He pointed at the sofa as he went.

“What?! You’re not sleepin’ on the couch at your own place, Luz.” Toye guessed that what had come out of his mouth, spluttering a bit of chewed bread, was _“bed’s a lot more comfy.”_

“Yeah, which is why you stay there. You’ve got a job to go to, you gotta be fresh.”

Luz eventually swallowed and sucked the ham grease off his fingertips, contemplating it.

“You sure?”

“As hell."

“Okay then… At least I give you the pillow, though. Got just that one, but I’ll change the case right now…”

As far as Toye was concerned, there was no need to change the pillowcase, moreover, he would have _preferred_ it to smell like Luz rather than the washing powder, but he didn’t know how to say it, so he went on with his dinner and let Luz fuss around.

The suggestion to test the impact strength of the sofa before he would sleep on it fell flat. His morning appetite was gone, and he couldn’t wait to just be left alone to remove that damned peg leg and get changed.

“Tired?” Luz kissed his temple. “I’m off, don’t worry. Hey… I’m glad you’re here,” he smiled between two tender pecks and by the time Toye brought out a belated _“yeah, me too,”_ he only heard the bedroom door click closed.

_Wonder if you’ll still say it in a few days._

He didn’t deserve any of this, and least of all he deserved George Luz, who had been living with his memory for God knows how long, maybe fucking years, and now he thought he'd gotten the real thing…

The sofa was like lying on a cloud compared to whatever surfaces he’d been rolling on before. He wrapped his arms around the fluffed pillow, face pressed into crisp white linen. He didn’t want to spend the nights by himself anymore, but it probably was for the best.

Luz climbed the desk and sat on the edge, legs dangling over the windowsill. A television was flickering across the street on third floor, down on the sidewalk a sneaky shadow was meowing hungrily. He tried to look at his little world with the eyes of someone who had never seen it before, and he wasn’t sure if he would have been too impressed. But it could feel like home, no? Still better than what Toye had come from…

_I’ve got you now, Joey. I’ll make this work, I promise. And I won’t be a pain in the ass._

He took a deep drag, held it in for a few moments and exhaled; cigarette smoke mixed into the evening air of hot asphalt and popcorn from the downstairs neighbors.

_I’ve got you, love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, George asking the operator about a Toye who owes them money is inspired by how Malarkey did it and described it in his book, and I found it too accurate and fitting not to include a nod to it.
> 
> (No, this story won't be a day-by-day chronicle of their lives XD things get moving from here on^^)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for stopping by, hope you had a good time :) Any feedback would make my anxious writer's heart soar^^  
> @3milesup on Tumblr, too


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